


Naps

by hazelandglasz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Babies, Baby Werewolves, Fluff, M/M, Puppies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this post :<br/>http://avessiunaltromodo.tumblr.com/post/79684271466/ogni-giorno-dopo-essersi-sfrenati-i-due-cuccioli</p><p>The Stilinskis and the Hales are neighbors</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Hales and the Stilinskis like each other well enough, and as neighbors go, they are pretty friendly.

When Talia’s pregnancy is about to end, Claudia and John take care of Laura and Connor - the father is not doing much better, poor thing, as he awaits for his mate to return with their youngest.

Laura turns to her pup form, only to cuddle in Claudia’s arms more comfortably as they wait, jumping and yapping at Talia’s heel when she finally comes back from the hospital with a little black pup in her arms.

"He’s adorable," Claudia coos, brushing her finger between the cub’s closed eyes, making him sniffle. "What’s his name?"

"Derek," Connor replies, picking the pup from Talia’s arms.

Five years later, Derek is still very much a pup but a strong little boy who is puzzled as why “Codia” is suddenly looking like a balloon.

Laura cuffs him behind the head when he asks their parents about it, and Connor explains that a- this is not the way to talk to a lady and b- their neighbor and friend is simply pregnant.

"She is going to have a pup?!" Derek asks enthusiastically, and Talia lets out a little laugh.

"No, Baby Der," she replies, brushing his crazy hair out of his eyes, "Claudia will have a baby."

Boring, Derek thinks, but he still goes religiously to the Stilinskis to offer his help whenever he can.

There is nothing more fun than touching Claudia’s tummy - Derek feels like he can’t wait for the baby who is kicking against his palm to finally come out and play.

When Claudia goes to the hospital, John goes with her, only to come back alone, saying that the nurses sent him home to get some rest while they wait for Claudia to really be ready, and Derek is so excited that he changes to his inner cub and settles his head on John’s lap.

A couple of days later, Claudia is back with a fat baby whose face looks like someone played with the brushes and dribbled ink on his face.

As the baby sleeps, Derek traces the dots with the tip of his finger - after Claudia let him do it, of course.

But the last thing he wants to do is hurt Sla- Sal - Sam - Derek stomps his feet, trying to pronounce the name Claudia picked. It’s too hard.

He’ll call the baby Punshki - after all, he has big pink cheeks, like those donuts thingy Claudia brought back from her parents last Christmas.

As he was thinking, his finger softly brushing Punshki’s cheek, the last thing he wants to do is hurt him - he finally has a boy to play with !

Ok, so far, Punshki mostly sleeps.

And eats.

And smells weird.

And back to sleep.

But even when he sleeps, he looks like he never rests completely.

Derek often chooses to spend time at the Stilinskis as a pup because it’s funnier, and Mom wants him to learn to shift quickly and John is the best at scratching that spot behind his ear and never makes fun of him for it when Derek goes back to his human self and it’s the bestest thing ever.

Well, almost the bestest - the second bestest.

The bestest thing ever is to join Punshki in his crib when he gets ready to sleep, as his wolf, to snuggle with him. Derek’s nose picks on all the subtle details of the baby’s smell : baby powder, that moisturizing cream Claudia uses on Punshki’s butt before putting a fresh diaper on him, the scent of the Stilinskis’ soap, and something else, something that is the baby’s smell, the smell that will allow Derek to find him in a crowd shall he need to.

Something that makes Derek bury his wet puppy nose against whatever part he can reach, if only to wrap himself in that scent.

Oh, as he falls asleep, the baby’s little hand buried in his fur, he can hear the noise of a camera shutter, and there are probably too many pictures being taken, but he’s too comfie to move.

For now.

He’ll see if it truly bothers him - after their nap.


	2. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> framby asked:
> 
> Can I prompt another baby!stiles and pup!derek?! :D they were just too cute and I want more! What if stiles catch a cold and derek doesn't understand what's happening and why he doesn't smell like the usual and why he is always in pain so he just cuddle closer and takes his pain without knowing he is because he just hasn't master it just yet? yeah? yeah :)

Something is very wrong.

Derek sniffs around the Stilinski’s house, leaving his mother’s side as he follows the scent.

The scent of his Punshki.

"Derek," Talia calls, but Claudia shushes her. "Let him be, maybe he’ll help Slawomir to sleep the fever away."

Derek looks back at Claudia with a frown. “He’s sick?” he asks, his missing teeth giving him a light lisp.

"He just god a little cold," Claudia says with a reassuring smile. "But his stuffy nose bothers him too much, and I don’t know what to do …," she adds with a sigh.

Talia pats her knee and nods towards Derek. “All babies get a cold, Claudia, don’t worry,” she says, and Derek walks as fast as his legs take him to the baby’s room.

Sure enough, Punshki is wiggling in his bed, crying and whining and nearly hitting his face in the nose with his little fist.

Derek looks at the baby through the bars of the bed, trying to reach for him to let him know that he’s not alone, but it’s not very comfortable for him. The change into his wolf is pretty easy by now, and Derek doesn’t hesitate, leaping into the bed next to the baby boy.

With his nose, Derek gently pushes Punshki to make him lie on his back, before lying next to him, Derek’s head on the baby’s tummy.

http://dogsbabies.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/a-ginger-dog-cat-and-baby-sleeping.jpg

Some of his young friend’s pain seems to come from here, and Derek presses his nose deeper into the soft flesh.

Punshki is in the middle of a whine when he does so, and the painful sound stops immediately.

Derek feels weird, like there is something uncomfortable going through his system but he doesn’t know what it means.

All he knows is that his little donut is feeling better, and it’s all he cares about.

One of Punshki’s fist unclenches next to his head, and the toddler lets it fall to Derek’s neck, fingers playing with the fur as he often does when they’re playing.

Derek brings his back legs closer to Punshki’s head, surrounding him with the warmth of his fur and he finds himself purring as he can feel the baby’s smell returning to normal.

There, all better.


	3. Babbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothingcanbreakthemapart asked : Stiles says his first word (at like 2 or 3 because i picture him like my baby brother who didn’t speak for a very long time but as soon as he started speaking he spoke very well and a lot) and it’s about derek. And then he just babbles to derek a lot who doesn’t even listen to him and just curls into a ball around him and falls asleep with his head on stiles’ lap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had forgotten about this prompt when those drawings :   
> http://monkeyelbow.tumblr.com/post/97245052126/last-commish-done-for-gossymer-young-stiles-and  
> popped on my dash ^^

"Ah gah spody 'Ek!"

Claudia has to bite her lower lip as Stiles--the nickname she has given to her baby because while she's very proud of her father's name, it's a mouthful (God what have they done, the poor kid is going to curse them in the future)-- babbles into his porridge.

It's 3.18pm, Derek should be here soon, and apparently Stiles knows it.

He can't talk, but he knows when his best friend in the whole world is about to come back from school. Naturally.

"Uff mahny soff 'Rek!" Stiles insists, slamming his spoon into the bowl and Claudia tuts.

"No porridge explosion, kochanie," she scolds him, and he looks down, the very picture of the repentant toddler. "But I agree," she continues, talking to him properly, "Derek can be very soft."

"Oft oft," Stiles happily repeats. "Up pup," he adds, cocking his head to the side and Claudia laughs.

"No, he's not a puppy, you know that, sweetheart," she replies, pushing the bowl back towards him. "Now eat, so I can clean you before he arrives."

"Rek!" Stiles screeches, and Claudia looks over her shoulder. Sure enough, Derek is in the doorway, backpack on one shoulder as he takes off his shoes.

"Good afternoon, Derek dear," Claudia welcomes him, standing up to take his bag away and kiss the top of his head as she always does when Derek stays with them in the afternoons when Talia has ... special meetings.

It's not that Laura couldn't take care of her little brother, but the two mothers know that Derek would always pick Stiles over his sister, and they also know that Laura prefers to play with her baby sister anyway.

Ir's a win-win situation, really, and Claudia loves to see her son beam at the older boy.

Derek doesn't show signs of the impending puberty, but Claudia sees it, the way the baby fat that clings to his cheeks and middle might soon leave to let Talia's regal bone structure shine.

And he'll be tall and strong, she just knows it.

"Can I leave you too alone for a moment, Derek?" Claudia asks, taking off the apron she wears nowadays when she feeds Stiles (better safe than sorry). "I just need to run an errand."

"Do you want me to do it-it for you," Derek offers, voice breaking just a little and Claudia smiles--she knew that puberty was starting to creep on the 8 years-old.

"I know that Stiles would rather have you with him," she whispers in confidence and Derek looks at Stiles in his high chair, the toddler making grabbing gestures towards him, needy whines escaping his lips.

"Such a needy baby," Derek comments with an eyeroll, but he can't help the soft smile that stretches his lips as he picks Stiles from the chair.

Stiles immediately latches on him, hands clapping Derek's cheeks as Stiles' babbles only get stronger.

"Rek, akoha badua eep, der gobley hay," he says very seriously, and Derek risks a look at Claudia.

"What is going on?" he asks, looking worried.

"He's ... well, not talking, obviously, but he'll get there. Just reply to him whatever seems to make the most sense, or ask him to repeat," Claudia explains, putting her coat on and fiddling with her keys.

"Will do," Derek tells her, already carrying Stiles in his room.

\--

When she comes back, Claudia notices the sound of Stiles babbling away and she tries to walk to the room as quietly as possible.

Stiles is sitting on the floor, toys long forgotten as his fingers get tangled in the soft fur of Derek's wolf pup's head and he babbles away.

"Sho eggy owt, 'Erek," he says softly, and Claudia opens wide eyes because that's the closest Stiles has ever been to say a word properly. Derek opens one eye and wraps his body closer around Stiles, tail wagging and tickling her little boy.

The strength of Stiles' laughter almost sends him falling to the floor, and Claudia nearly joins him. Oh if only John could see this ...

Derek keeps brushing the fluffiest part of his tail in Stiles' face, not even wincing when Stiles closes his hand around it.

"'hank you Erek," Stiles says when Derek nudges Stiles' plush toy closer and Claudia squeals without restraint.

This is it, her baby is talking--and starting with something so polite, well, she couldn't be prouder!

Both the toddler and the pup look at her with the same air of opened curiosity, and Claudia smiles at them.

"Derek, if you wouldn't mind turning back, I'll make some hot cocoa, what do you say?" she offers, picking up Stiles--who immediately whines at the loss of Derek's soft fur.

She steps out of the room to give Derek privacy to turn back and put his clothes back on. When Derek comes to stand next to her, he's holding Stiles' favorite toy at the level of the baby's eyes.

http://www.unique-hunting-gifts.com/images/webkinz-black-wolf-october-pet-of-the-month.jpg

"Pupup 'Rek!" Stiles cries enthusiastically, hands wrapping around t toy.

Claudia does notice the blush on Derek's face, but she stays quiet about it.

"So, hot chocolate--marshmallows or sprinkles?"


	4. Wawking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Hey, loving the naps verse. What about stiles learning to walk and Derek letting him lean against him and very solemnly keeping an eye on him so he doesn't get hurt?

Once Stiles starts talking, there is no way to shut him up.

Not that Derek would want to, he loves the way his little donut babbles away, about everything, his brain seemingly going from one subject to the other without any sort of break.

It makes his homework very interesting that’s for sure.

But Stiles chooses to stay on his butt, for now, and while Claudia and John seem worried about his development, that’s a weight off Derek’s shoulders.

Do you have any idea how much trouble he could get himself into otherwise?

But he can see it, he can see the way Stiles tries to grab on tables and shelves to get himself upright, before sighing and dropping back to his ass, like it’s too much trouble anyway.

And one afternoon, as he looks up from his book because Stiles has gone silent, Derek sees it happening in slow motion.

Claudia freezes next to him, and they both keep watching as Stiles slowly gets to his feet and takes a couple of steps before looking at them with a beaming smile.

“‘m wawking!” he shouts, before his weight seems to shift and he leans backwards.

Derek doesn’t really think about it, he just shifts and leaps to keep Stiles from hurting himself.

The toddler leans against Derek’s soft body while Claudia chuckles, picking up the young boy’s clothes.

“‘Erek!” Stiles says, fists clutched around Derek’s fur. “Am wawking!”

"Yeah you are," Claudia says, picking him up to let Derek shift back. "I’m so proud of you, Slawomir!"

Derek pulls on his shirt back before reaching to tickle the baby. “Yeah, Punshki, you’re unstoppable now!”

Stiles claps his hands on Derek’s cheeks, his laughter echoing against the walls.

—-

Two days later, Derek sighs as he gets ready to shift.

He knew that Stiles starting to walk was not a good idea.

Not just a bad idea, but a dangerous one too: Stiles seems to be fearless, no matter how many times he falls.

And there is something, a feeling from deep within, that pushes Derek to protect Stiles, to keep him from getting hurt.

Claudia takes many pictures of them, but Derek can’t exactly snap at her the way he snaps at Laura’s heels.

When Stiles gets to his feet, Derek immediately shift to trot by his side, acting like a very fury and soft walker, and they walk around the apartment, Stiles exploring his new territory.

More than once, Stiles face-plants into his side, but Derek takes it very stoically, wagging his fluffy tail in Stiles’ face, and hop they go.

After two walks around the living room and an attempt at climbing on the couch, Stiles seems to have burned all of his energy, yawning and clutching Derek’s fur even more strongly.

Derek helps him sit on the floor near the fireplace before sitting next to him, wrapping his body around him, his flank ready when Stiles lets himself fall against him.

"Nap nap," Stiles says around a yawn and Derek yips at him in agreement.

Nap nap indeed—he’ll have all the time in the world to work later. For now, no force on Earth could take him away from being his Punshki’s “piwow”.


	5. Grief

With Claudia’s death and Derek’s teenage years hitting him head on, a drift starts forming between Derek and Stiles.  
Derek never completely walks away from his Punshki, but he can’t—he can’t deal with the aura of sadness that permeates Stiles’ smell wherever he goes.  
He can’t deal with his own sadness, and he misses her so much.  
Sometimes Derek thinks that he can feel her fingers carding through his hair or his fur, and most of the time, it’s only Laura cuddling him and wiping his tears, or his own mother petting his head.  
So yeah, he feels guilty, but Derek has his own grief to deal with.  
But six years after Claudia’s death, he still knows that Stiles has grown into a lanky teenager with more strength than he lets on.  
Into a teenager whose smell has even more of an impact on Derek. Where his baby smell made his younger self want to cuddle him and protect him, his teenage smell …  
It brings to life needs and wants and dreams far too vivid for Derek’s liking.  
What does this mean?  
He’s too young to find a mate anyway, and his mother always says that there is no such thing as “soulmate” in werewolf lore, but the fact remains that whenever he catches a sniff of Stiles’ sweat and sweet and hormones-loaded smell, Derek has to take very long and thorough cold showers.  
Afterwards, Derek shifts, escaping the house, escaping the neighborhood to run into the woods nearby to try to get his thoughts in order.  
He can see the way his mother looks at him when he comes back, red eyes flashing as if she knows exactly what is going on and offering the support of not only his mother but his Alpha.  
But this is for him to wrap his mind around.  
That being said, when the Sheriff himself comes to talk to him as he comes out of his afternoon shift at the bakery, to ask if he would mind coming to talk to Stiles because it’s the fifth anniversary of Claudia’s death and he has to cover for one of his deputies, Derek doesn’t even hesitate.  
"Stiles?" he calls as he opens the door, finding the apartment completely dark.  
"You still exist, then."  
Stiles’ voice comes from the living room and Derek comes closer, finding the teenage boy’s silhouette forming shadows against the window, against the sharp light coming from the street below.  
"What do you mean?" Derek asks, and he guesses more than sees the way Stiles rolls his eyes.  
From the outside light, Derek can see that Stiles wears a t-shirt and a plaid shirt over jeans.   
Claudia used to cook dressed like that.  
"You left when mom did," Stiles replies, voice shaky but so strong that it sends a pang in Derek’s chest.  
"I’m sorry."  
A sharp, humorless laugh. “Like I care.”  
"You do," Derek says, sitting in front of Stiles on the windowsill. "And I still care about you, too."  
Stiles shrugs, and keeps his eyes towards the street. Derek doesn’t say anything, mirroring Stiles’ posture.  
Until Stiles sniffs, and all of Derek’s resolutions fly out of the window. He reaches forward, his hand cupping Stiles’ knee.  
The contact only seems to bring more tears, and before he knows it, Derek has a lap full of crying teenager who smells like everything that is good in the world, underneath his sadness and his grief and his relief—that one is a surprise, but it only increases Derek’s guilt.  
As Stiles’ tears stop falling, Derek remembers how his fur always seemed to calm him down when he was younger, and pulling Stiles closer, he slowly shifts, not exactly caring about his clothes for now.  
He’s bigger than before, but so is Stiles, and as Derek lays down on the floor in the streetlight halo, Stiles burrows into the softer fur of his belly, fingers clutching Derek’s shoulder and fur as he calms down, his breathing slowing down until Derek knows that he fell asleep.  
A raw laugh escapes his muzzle, as he remembers of the countless naps he shared with Stiles when he—when they were younger.  
Why did he ever think that it was a good idea to stay away from Stiles?  
His little donut needed him, and as he finds out as his own heart slows down, he needs him too.


	6. On the mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek realizes a couple of things ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this drawing : http://sterek-in-the-stitching.tumblr.com/post/97843311658/sourwolf-by-kittykatpaws

After that heart-wrenching afternoon, Derek feels like his relationship with Stiles is on the mend.

Of course, he does enjoy the new tradition they have started of napping whenever they are both in the building at the same time.

There is only one down side to that new tradition.

Well, down side—it’s not a positive one as long as Derek doesn’t accept it.

Now that he gets to sleep, for short amounts of time, with his nose or his muzzle buried in Stiles’ neck, Derek realizes that Stiles’ scent is more than just comfort from their shared past.

The need to wrap himself in that scent, the first memory of Stiles Derek has in his bank of memories, the need it arises to protect and cherish Stiles, it all makes a lot more sense now that they’re both adults (or nearly adults—everybody knows that Stiles is older than his years).

Now Derek knows that Stiles is his mate, that there will never be anyone able to make him feel that way, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

His parents are mates, sure, and he could go and ask them—or just his father—what he’s supposed to do, but for now, Derek wants to keep them away from this.

Ok, he wants to keep his parents from digging their muzzles in his relationship with Stiles for as long as he can.

For now, Derek will take what he can.

As he enters Stiles’ room, he has to bite his lower lip at the sight that welcomes him.

Stiles is lying on the floor, his hoodie still around his upper body, one sock sliding off of his foot and the way Derek’s heart feels like it’s been squeezed with fondness at the sight is the last piece of the puzzle Derek needed to know what he always knew.

“‘lo ‘Erek,” Stiles mumbles, opening one eye to look at him, lips stretched into a lazy smile before he opens his arms, fingers wiggled at Derek. “C’m’here.”

There is seemingly no force on Earth that could keep Derek from following that soft, gentle, loving command, and he immediately shifts, crawling between Stiles’ legs (and doesn’t that stir something deep and dark and hot in his gut) to lay his paws and his head on Stiles’ chest.

Stiles’ arms close around his shoulders, one hand clutching the fur while the other pets Derek’s back, fingers twirling around strands of fur in a gesture that screams of habit and comfort.

Derek lifts his head to rub his wet nose against Stiles’ jaw, taking his fill of Stiles’ scent, sweet and soft and delicious.

Punshki, he thinks as he lets out a small, happy whine.

“‘ove you, dude,” Stiles mumbles, fingers stilling as he falls back asleep, not realizing the way Derek’s eyes snap opened, glowing blue before he follows him into slumber.


	7. Wind of change (nap #7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' POV

Ever since Derek came back in his life, Stiles feels like a weight has been taken from his chest.  
Like there was a wrong tearing his world apart and it’s been sewn back together.  
He remembers the numerous naps they used to have when he was a kid, when he could barely wrapped his chubby arms around Derek’s puppy neck. But in wolf or in human form, they are both grown now, and Stiles can feel his libido stirring whenever Derek comes around.  
And he can tell that there is something that his best friend is not telling him.  
There is something bordering on desperate now in the way Derek holds on to him when they nap together (they may be adults, they can both enjoy a nap every now and then), like Derek is afraid to let go. Even though, out of the two of them, Stiles should be the one fearing abandonment.  
But that’s not all of it, because Stiles wouldn’t react so strongly to Derek just holding onto him like he’s his plush toy (and isn’t that just rich) or not letting go of his hand when they fall asleep on the couch.  
There is also a new layer of affection, a layer that feels different than the brotherly love they might have shared in the past.  
It’s a new kind of love, and Stiles can’t exactly shake it off as just a more adult kind of bond. It runs deeper, simultaneously brighter and darker for all the unsaid promises it carries.  
Stiles is perfectly able to say that Derek fits his type of men to a T: strong, gentle, smart—the whole deal is right there, and now, it feels like it’s in his reach.  
But to get the feeling that Derek returns that sentiment? Stiles is torn between elation and panic, which is not a good place to be standing when the object of your affection is a werewolf who has a pretty good hold of how you’re feeling even before you know how you are feeling—he’s not making any sense, is he?  
"Stiles."  
Derek’s voice, though mumbled, pulls Stiles from his mental rambling. "You’re thinking too loudly," Derek whispers, cracking one eye open and rubbing his thumb on the side of Stiles’ finger and smiling sleepily.  
"Got to cover your snores," Stiles replies in the same tone, his thumb poking Derek’s.  
Derek lets out a sound between a snort and a happy bark before pulling on Stiles’ hand. “Come here,” he commands, the flash of his golden eyes visible through his parted eyelids, and Stiles goes with the movement, settling his back against Derek’s chest.  
Derek’s happy … purr? Rumble?, echoes in his own chest and Stiles feels himself falling asleep too, and he can’t be sure, but he thinks that Derek kissed the back of his neck before going back to his snores with an arm slung over his waist.


	8. Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a comment on the previous chapters :)

The minute Derek steps in the Stilinski’s apartment—to invite them both for dinner, Talia made way too much lasagna any way— he can smell it.  
A smell he doesn’t know, doesn’t hate per se, but that definitely triggers unhappy memories.  
“Stiles?” He calls, following his nose.

"In my room, but you already know that, ‘Rek," stiles calls back, and he smells happy and relaxed.

Derek leans against the door frame of stiles’ room, deeply inhaling his smell. It’s so concentrated here in his room, more intoxicating than in the rest of the apartment, and Derek could easily get drunk on it.

 

But there is that smell again, on the verge of his memory, right on the tip of his brain …

"Dude, you need to stop sniffing around like a hound. "

Derek looks sheepish and smiles at the younger man who just closed his laptop. “Sorry, ” he tells Stiles, “there is just this—this smell, I can’t put my finger on it …”

Stiles giggles before standing up, patting Derek’s cheek on his way out of his room. “ _Scott_  was here,” he says and the name is enough to unlock the memory.

—-

_“‘Erek, Derek!!” Derek looks up at the sound of Stiles’ voice, smiling and waving at Claudia before she leaves for her shift at the library._

_Stiles looks considerably less distraught than in the morning, when Derek had had to hug the little boy to comfort him before his first “real school” day._

_"Did you have fun, Punchki?" he asks, huffing a laugh as Stiles slams his little backpack on the table._

_"I met my bestest friend!"_

_And just like that, Derek’s good mood melts away. “Oh?”_

_Stiles hums, completely missing Derek’s lack of enthusiasm. “His name is Scott and he has chocolate eyes and he has a, a, a thing in his cheek when he smiles—”_

_"A dimple. "_

_"—a dimple, thank you, and he shared his Reeses, ‘Rek!"_

_Something dark and foreign swirls in Derek’s stomach. A little voice in the back of his head, one that sounds like Laura at her worst, says that he’s jealous._

_Which is ridiculous._

_"That’s cool," he replies and Stiles stops fussing around his backpack to come and stand next to him, his hand on Derek’s shoulder._

_"You’re still my best bestest friend, ‘Erek," he says softly, and the whole gesture—hand on the shoulder, head tilted to the side—is such a good imitation of his father that Derek lets go of the weight on his heart._

_"You’re my best bestest friend too, Punchki."_

—-

"You’re still jealous?" Stiles asks as they come out of the apartment and walk the few feet separating the two families.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Derek says with a huff, and Stiles lets out a bark of a laugh that tugs at Derek’s lips.

Soon—soon, he’ll tell Stiles how he feels.

Soon.

"Whatever you say, ‘Rek," Stiles says, his fingers clutching Derek’s shoulder briefly as they enter the Hale’s apartment.

Derek discretely rubs his cheek against his shoulder, getting the smell from Stiles’ palm onto his scruff.

Now that he thinks about it, ever since that nap on the floor of Stiles’ bedroom where he had his big revelation about his true feelings for the man who is still his best friend, Stiles seems to be more tactile.

Getting closer.

And there is something of an after-smell, something weaved through Stiles’ essence that makes Derek hopeful.

For now, though, he’ll settle for cuddling with Stiles, Cora and Laura on the couch, their bellies filled with lasagna and “Pride and Prejudice” playing on TV.


	9. Villainous siesta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About time !

That's it, Derek has enough of this weird dance they have started, Stiles and him, touching but not  _touching_  the way he really wants.

Because, truth be told?

It's more than feelings, now.

The dark feeling pooling in his gut has awakened, showing its true face in the middle of the night.

In the beginning, Derek used to dream of pretty platonic things to do with Stiles. Cooking, cuddling--hell, the very basis of their whole relationship is napping and cuddling, blending their scents into a unique one.

But now, he dreams of more carnal things--no doubt in his mind that the recent habit Stiles has developed to touch him at every opportunity has only spurred it on.

He dreams of Stiles running his fingers up and down his arms.

Of Stiles rubbing circles on his chest and around his nipples.

Of Stiles digging his fingers and his nails on his shoulder blades and the curve of his back.

Of Stiles burying his fingers in Derek's ass, pushing him closer while Derek has his hands on Stiles' hip and fucks into him.

Of Stiles arching his body against Derek's, long neck stretched to Derek's hungry gaze.

He usually wakes up hard and breathing heavily, hands grasping at empty air and Stiles' name on his lips.

And that's why he has enough of this situation, because the sheer frustration of it all is weighing him down--Derek had always thought that finding someone he loves, someone he wants in every conceivable way, would make him happy.

But all he has is uncertainty and frustration on too many levels.

That's the thought pushing him forward, knocking on the Stilinski's door instead of opening it like he has done forever.

No sound replies to his knock, even though he can smell that Stiles is inside.

He knocks again, and still no reply.

Derek frowns. 

Either Stiles is avoiding him, or he's in trouble--knowing his lack of coordination, he could have hit his head on something and can lie unconscious somewhere.

No, Derek is not pessimistic.

But he still goes in to check on Stiles, because you never know.

"Stiles?" he calls, before pushing the bedroom door opened. And then he huffs a laugh, because Stiles is sleeping with a book opened on his face.

He's lying on his back, one arm over his chest while the other dangles over the edge of the bed, and his legs are thrown on the end of the bed.

He smells like he's relaxed, and happy.

A little bit too happy, now that Derek thinks about it, and he cocks his head to the side, taking a step inside.

Stiles moans, turning his head towards the wall, making the book fall back on the mattress.

"Hmmm," he breathes, and Derek feels like he's going to die from the sudden rush of blood to his cock.

So that's what Stiles sounds and smells when he's aroused and having fun--even if it's in the confine of his mind.

"Ungh, yeah, just 'ike that," Stiles says, thrusting his hips in the air. "Fuck,  _Derek_ , yes."

Derek has to lean against the wall for support.

Oh wow.

So that's what Stiles sounds and smells  _when he thinks about Derek_.

Derek nearly hits the doorframe with his head on his way out of the room, and he leans against the closed door to gain some control over his own breathing.

Ok, in, and out. In, and out. He can do this.

In a daze, he exits the apartment, closes the door, and then straightens up.

And rings the bell.

Even through the door, he can hear Stiles waking up, swearing and cursing everything, getting somehow his feet tangled in the cover, recovering from a near fall, and rushing to the door.

And then throwing the door opened, his frown melting away from his face just as a fresh wave of arousal reaches Derek's nose.

How did he miss this for so long?

How on Earth did his parents and sisters miss th--oh fuck, they know, and they didn't say anything.

"H-hi Derek," Stiles says, smiling crookedly at Derek and that's all it takes to tip Derek over.

"Stiles," he whispers before cupping Stiles' cheek and leaning in.

He goes slowly in, letting Stiles all the time in the world to back away or to tell him to stop. But if anything, Stiles shortens the space between them and presses his lips to Derek's.

The kiss is soft at first, like they're really savoring it, and then Stiles makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and all of Derek' resolve to take it slow flies out of the window.

He presses against Stiles, back in the apartment, hands cupping Stiles' face while Stiles' hands are grasping his back.

"... 'or so long," Stiles says, his words muffled by Derek's mouth, "God want you so mmm--"

"Perfect," Derek replies between kisses, his nose buried in Stiles' neck for a moment as Stiles pulls him towards his bedroom, "want you, love--"

"Love?"

Derek pauses and lifts his head to look at Stiles. "Yes."

Stiles' eyes are wide, but there is an undertone of disbelief in the way he smells. "Really?"

"Need me to spell it?" Derek replies. "I love you, Punchki."

The disbelief melts away, the fondness in both Stiles' eyes and scent overwhelming Derek. "I love you too."

It's Derek's turn to look surprised, because he knows that lust and love are two very different things. But Stiles doesn't give him enough time to really process it, fingers wrapped in the hem of Derek's shirt to pull him towards the bed.

Derek's eyes dart from his shirt and Stiles' hands back to Stiles' face, and then he lingers there for a moment because there is barely a hint of amberish gold in Stiles' eyes. And it's more than a little mesmerizing, and Derek is already pretty horny as it is. "What do you say we take a little nap?" Stiles says, turning them to push Derek on his bed.

"A nap?" Derek repeats, and though he tries really hard, he can hear the disappointment loud and clear.

Stiles throws a leg over Derek's, arms wrapped around his neck. "A  _nap_ ," he repeats, voice lowering to a whisper--a very seductive whisper, "of the naughty and debauched variety."

"Aah," Derek replies nonchalantly, his hands on Stiles' hips, "a villainous siesta."

Stiles hums noncommittally, rolling his hips against Derek. "Sounds good--and may I add that it is very hot when you speak foreign language?"

Derek dips his head to Stiles' collarbone, kissing and nibbling.

He'll explain that it's plain English later.

For now, the most important thing is to make Stiles come one way or another and to get his own Stiles-inspired orgasm.

One way or another.


	10. Next Generation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's the epilogue folks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much guys for the love and the support

As they grow into their relationship, as they slowly become "they" and "we" and as they turn their friendship into something deeper--and to Stiles' delight, something that involves a lot of kissing and fingers touching hidden skin--Derek starts ...

Dreaming.

Dreaming about taking Stiles to a meadow under the red Moon to celebrate their union.

About having his mother, his father, his sisters, every wolf in the Pack, even distant, to howl with him once he marks Stiles as his own and once Stiles returns the favor.

About living with Stiles, kicking him when he hogs the blankets and blowing raspberries at his back when Stiles tells him he eats too much sweets.

About brushing their teeth side by side, bumping their hips and giggling around the toothpaste in their mouth.

About kissing their everlasting marks while they're making love.

And after a while, Derek starts dreaming about little feet hitting the ground and little claws clicking on the floor.

Naturally, the morning after the first dream of being awakened by their own cub pulling the covers from them, Derek talks about it with Stiles.

About turning their love nest into a family den.

The words are barely out of his mouth that Stiles is already leaping on top of him to wrap his long limbs around Derek, lips pressed against his neck.

"Yes?" Derek asks, his arms closing around Stiles' body, needing the confirmation before letting himself hope too much.

"Yes, yes, yes," Stiles replies, alternating his words and his kisses, "a thousand times yes. We'll have lots of kids, alright? Yours, mine, adopted--"

"Ours."

Stiles stops and looks up from Derek's collarbone where he was busy making and remaking a love bite, a living Penelope working as his masterpiece again and again.

"What did you say?" Stiles asks and Derek's hand comes to rest on the small of his back while the other cups the back of his head, fingers playing with his soft hair.

"Ours--it will be our children."

"They will," Stiles replies softly, bending his head to rest on Derek's collarbone.

\---

First, they have Theodore--Theo, for short.

Biologically Stiles', but he has Derek's personality to a T.

Even if the little boy is 100% human, he sticks his nose in the neck of all of his family members who cannot hold him enough--particularly his Pappy and his Pop-pop--and paws at his dads' pants to get on their laps.

Then they adopt Stella, Michael and Toni, triplets born in the fold of the Hagopian's pack and whose parents had been killed by rogue hunters.

Chris Argent had taken care of the culprits, punishing them and delivering them to justice for a "normal" trial, and the pack's Alpha had asked for a favor from Talia, who had only been too happy to welcome the cubs in her family.

Their odd coats of fur--light brown on the little boy's back, lighter even, close to camel on the two girls'--make them look like puppies even more than Derek or his sisters ever did.

Stiles loves having a house filled with children, and the four of them adore him, but Derek--Derek thrives in fatherhood.

In shifting to play with the triplets--who keep to their wolves selves most of the time--, in helping Theo learning how to read and write--he's only three, but he's so bright, God Derek feels his chest puffed in pride at how smart his eldest is.

In staying as a wolf to nap with all of them, Theo lying between his front paws, clutching the longer hair of his chest, while the triplets snuffle around them both.

When Stiles comes home from his job or from college, and Derek looks up, cocking one ear at him and flicking his tail in sleepy, lazy happiness, Stiles doesn't speak a word and just lies on the carpet with them, one arm thrown over Derek's side and brushing against their children's cheeks.

It's not as much a nap as they used to share, but it helps settle Stiles after a day away from his little sub-pack.

And Derek doesn't think he could be happier than this--until a Saturday night that starts with both Stiles and himself looking for the four children to put them to bed.

They have a whole evening planned--nothing too fancy, pasta and movie--but this is delaying it.

Derek tries to sniff the kids, but something is blocking him, and as time passes by, he starts worrying.

"Theooo," he calls, looking under the couch while Stiles goes looking in their laundry room.

"Derek."

Stiles barely whispers his name, but Derek hears him--he'll always hear him--and he runs to join him.

And once he's there, he has to bury his face in Stiles' shoulder to muffle his giggles.

Right there, in the basket of fresh sheets and laundry that Stiles was going to fold in the morning, lie their "litter", the three cubs with their little muzzles buried in Theo's belly.

Stiles lets out a wet sort of giggle, his hand finding Derek's on his hip and clutching it.

More than Derek, who could smell the love the three young children have for their older brother, Stiles was worried that the wolves couldn't really relate to Theo, blaming himself in the process for some reasons Derek didn't even understand.

But to see them like this, all wrapped up in each other in a literal napping puppy pile--

It's a comfort for both of them.

"Come on," Derek whispers in Stiles' ear, "it's not that often that they are all asleep together."

Stiles nods, turning his head to kiss Derek's jaw. "Time for a nap of our own then," he whispers and Derek doesn't waste any second before throwing Stiles over his shoulder to run to their bedroom for their very special kind of nap.


	11. Christmas Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An additional chapter to celebrate Derek's birthday (since he's supposed to be born on December 25th ...)

Derek doesn’t expect to get a special treatment; not that he doesn’t get birthday gifts, but now, with four kids in the house, Christmas morning takes precedence over a silly birthday.

Except, that would be a severe misjudgment of Stiles’ love and care for his person.

Even so, Derek still feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he wakes up with a weight on his body.

Four distinct weights, actually.

"Happy birthday, Papa!!"

"Merry Christmas, pups," Derek replies, voice still gruff with sleep as he opens his arms to hug them all. It’s a bit much, but they all wiggle to fit.

Now that he’s awake, and under the happy rumbles coming from the triplets, Derek can hear Stiles moving around the kitchen.

What the hell is he doing?

"Don’t you want to open your presents?" he asks, looking at Theo—as the oldest child, he still acts as a sort of leader of the kiddy pack, even if he’s not a werewolf.

"You’re supposed to open them first, Papa," Theo reply, his amber eyes sparkling with mischief. "Grandma said so."

Ah, if Grandma said so …

"And Dad said that we have to keep you here while he finishes something," Theo adds, weighing down on Derek’s chest.

Stella goes to lie down on his right arm, rubbing her face against Derek’s shoulder; Michael, as usual, goes to Theo, his smaller body curving to fit against him, his clawed hand closing and opening against Derek’s stomach; and finally, Toni goes to lie like a starfish over Derek’s left arm.

Well then.

"I see that you’ve made me your prisoner," he deadpans, already closing his eyes, and the four kids howl and shout happily before settling down for an impromptu morning nap.

—-

When Stiles comes up with a tray of pancakes and pear jam and hot chocolates (and a cupcake with a candle, because why the Hell not), he finds his whole family snoring softly, Derek’s forehead pressed against Toni’s.

So he puts the tray on their dresser, returns to the kitchen to find clothes and covers to keep everything warm (blowing the candle himself) before joining them.

His hand on Stella’s back, Stiles scoots closer to Derek until the little girl is stuck between them, and Derek’s hand comes to cup the back of his neck.

Theo makes a happy, sleepy sound and Michael rubs his nose against his brother’s chest, ears growing pointy.

"Happy birthmas, Der’," Stiles whispers, watching as a lazy smile grows on Derek’s face.

“‘ove you,” Derek replies, eyes still closed but still reaching for Stiles, who is only too happy to lean closer to peck Derek’s lips.


End file.
